


Look Who's Coming to Dinner

by takumiraine



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragon!Hanzo, M/M, Pre Mchanzo, Pre Relationship, Werecree, mentions of Gabriel - Freeform, mentions of jack, mentions of sombra - Freeform, nondescriptive blood, nondescriptive gunshot wound, werewolf!McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumiraine/pseuds/takumiraine
Summary: Being a werewolf isn't easy, especially when you get shot at trying to steal a chicken. But when hiding in a cave means you find a dragon who decides it's a good idea to take care of you, how can you say no?





	Look Who's Coming to Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the McHanzo Monster Mash

Jesse McCree was, once again, royally screwed. It seemed that his life always seemed to go tits up in the most dramatic, cliched way possible. It had been raining, and his fur was matted from the underbrush, the mud and the blood from wounds inflicted by the people chasing him. 

He had just been so hungry... and those chickens were out pecking at the worms and bugs the rain had scared up.... he was only gonna take a couple. The farmer had plenty.

The farmer also had had amazing luck, having his rifle by the door like that. The bullet had caught him in his front leg, just below the shoulder joint. Shifting once he was safe was gonna hurt like hell, but it didn't feel like a serious injury.

To be fair it hurt like hell running on it now. The adrenaline coursing through his system as his wolf ears picked up the sounds of footfalls behind him dulled the pain somewhat, though he kept stumbling over his own feet.

He only had one thought running through his head right now: he was gonna die. Unless he found a place to hide by some miracle... he was a dead man.

He lost track of how long he was running through the brambles and the mud, claws digging into the soft earth. All that mattered was the sound of his breathing, coming in heavy pants and the pain in his arm. Both meant he was still alive. He was running out of steam though, he'd need to find a place to rest soon. The terrain around him had quickly changed from flat and forested to rocky, hilly and forested. If he could just find a little cavern, he'd be golden.

Keen eyes spotted an indent in the rocks just wide enough for a small human to sidle through, it'd be hell wedging his thicker form into it, but if he could manage he might be safe. He slowed as he approached the hole, able to hear the crunching and crashing of his pursuers, though farther off. He wouldn't have to hide for long. They were bound to give up eventually.

Pushing himself into the crevice proved difficult, shoulders wedging against the rocks, sharp points digging into the wound from the bullet and forcing loud whines out of his overworked lungs. The narrow passage was just long enough for his body before it emptied out into a slightly larger cave. Even with his enhanced vision he couldn't see anywhere for him to go from there, and he couldn't hear anything over his own panting breaths. He waited for his chest to stop heaving so much before pulling himself back into his human form, which was better for assessing his injuries.

Once he was no longer covered in fur, regardless of what some of his former lovers had claimed about his body hair, Jesse took inventory of his wounds. The bullet hadn't really done more than graze him, although it was still oozing blood. He was covered in scrapes and scratches from the rocks and forest's underbrush. Jesse was also covered in mud and he was certain he stank of sweat and wet dog.

He could almost hear Gabriel now: "You stink worse than when I found you, pendejo, take a goddamn fucking bath and stay out of trouble for once in your fucking life." 

The thought made his chest clench uncomfortably. It had been almost a decade since the hunters had torn through their small, ramshackle pack. He hadn't seen much of Sombra, and Gabe and Jack were more than likely dead. Neither he, nor Sombra, had heard from either of them. And Gabriel wouldn't do that if he was alive and he could help it. Gabriel had personally rescued both him and Sombra from trouble when they were just pups, barely able to control their shift.

Jesse had been 16 when he was rescued from a pack of ferals who had snatched him as a small child and infected him with their bites. He still had the scars from when three of them had bitten him at once with the intent to change him. Sombra had come along a year later at 10 years old, pack destroyed by hunters who were either too incompetent or too 'kind' to kill a little girl. Seven years later and there had been an attack on them by the same band of hunters. Rumors flew about their name being "Talon Mercenary Inc" or some weird shit like that. All Jesse knew was that they were terrible.

His stomach rumbled insistently and he patted it, noticing that the soft curve of his early twenties was long since gone, replaced by a thinness only near constant hunger could give. There was a reason he had resorted to stealing a farmer's chickens. He hadn't had a good meal in ages, the good hunting grounds in the area already taken. The ones that weren't taken had rumors of a dragon using them, although Jesse didn't believe in dragons. If they really existed he'd eat his hat. Well, he would have if he hadn't lost it ages ago already.

That being said, he still didn't want to meet whoever, or whatever, was scary enough that people called it a dragon.

His stomach stopped rumbling, stilling under his fingers, however the rumbling in the cave did not. His ears strained to isolate the sound, however he didn't need to wonder long as blue arcs of electricity suddenly sparked between the long, curved horns of....

Well fuck him sideways.

It was a dragon.

"Uh... Hello Mr. Dragon sir..." Jesse stuttered out, hand dropping from where it had been trying to staunch the trickle of blood still oozing from the graze. If he still had a pack this would be the kind of wound either Jack or Gabriel would stitch and bandage while he cursed a blue streak. "I don' mean no trouble... Jus' tryin' to get away from some people I pissed off... See I was hungry an' there were these chickens..." He rambled, trailing off as the dragon's head grew steadily closer to him, long forked tongue dipping out as if tasting the air, electricity still arcing between the beast's horns and lighting the area in erratic bursts.

"Please don't eat me..." He murmured, voice pitched higher as he startled and pressed further back against the wall as the dragon snorted, seemingly in response to his squeak of an utterance. Another sniff and flick of the tongue had the dragon's face wrinkling in distaste and the head withdrawing, sparks still flickering between its horns even as it withdrew deeper into the cave. There was another rumble, and McCree got the distinct urge to follow.

Now, he didn't have too many self preservation instincts, but following a possibly hungry dragon deeper into it's den was hitting the few that were there. The rumble came again and Jesse felt it, a distinct pull in the back of his mind. Follow it said, now. A shiver trilled down his spine as he felt himself getting up, almost against his will.

If an intensely burning curiosity that had gotten him into trouble lord only knew how many times before could count as almost against his will that was. He followed the bursts of light deeper into the cave, holding his injured arm gingerly as to not open the wound any more than it already was. Soon the cavern opened up into a larger room, high ceilings with what looked to be oil lamps hidden in crevasses where they couldn't be knocked out by the dragon's large body and a large fire burning at the far end of the room.

And holy hell was the dragon large.

Jesse couldn't even get an accurate idea of the length from the way the dragon's body coiled around itself, loops upon loops of blue and silver scales, shimmering in the low light. There were furs piled as neatly as a pile could be on one side of the room, near enough to the fire to be warm, but not so near that they risked being set on fire, and jewelry decorating the areas near the lamps. The dragon gave another small rumble as he saw McCree come into view, horns no longer giving off electricity as he turned his head and slid down another path, almost as if he were a giant snake, hind legs catching the ground as he moved, stretching himself out as he moved down the tunnel until only the tip of his tail remained, before returning to his coiled position, setting a bucket filled with water at Jesse's feet. He couldn't hear it over the combination of his breathing and the dragon's but he could have sworn that the dragon brought the scent of fresh stream water back with him as he returned to his coiled state. Having seen the dragon stretched out now, he could assume that the creature was almost fifteen feet long.

Jesse was startled out of his consideration when a scrap of cloth was.... nudged over to him with a foreleg, and he was given the impression that the creature wanted him to clean up. Which... was a mighty fine idea.

"This's awfully kind of you Mr. Dragon." Jesse told him, hand instinctively reaching for the brim of his cowboy hat, even after all of these years. He turned the aborted gesture into him running a hand through his hair, inwardly groaning at how gross it felt. A bucket and a rag wasn't gonna do him much good there. Still he picked up the rag and began cleaning himself as much as possible, taking extra care around the wound in his arm, dabbing at it as he hissed through clenched teeth. The water in the bucket was stained brown from the dirt and dried blood before he was finished, and he dunked as much of his hair in the bucket as he could manage, figuring dirty water and his fingernails were better than nothing.

All the while the dragon's stormy eyes stayed latched onto him.

Once he was as clean as he could get he was nudged towards the pile of furs with a long snout, breath puffing across his back and making him shiver. Sleep came the urge in the back of his mind. Sleep sounded like an awfully good idea. Except his stomach, as it often did, disagreed, letting out another loud rumble, seemingly displeased at being forgotten in the terror of meeting a dragon. The dragon gave another huff, seemingly rolling its eyes, before it ventured further into the cave and out of sight again.

It was gone so long that Jesse began to fear it was abandoning him to sleep anyways. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone to bed with an empty stomach, nor would it likely be the last. He went and sat on the furs for a few minutes, basking in the warmth and softness on his skin until the telltale shuffle-scrape of a dragon returning could be heard, this time carrying what looked to be a cauldron. It set the cauldron down between Jesse and the fire, looking at him expectantly. He stared back, eyes flicking between the cauldron out of curiosity - what was in it? - and the dragon that was suddenly staring at him.

It rumbled again. Cook came the urge, and Jesse looked between the cauldron and the fire. "Should I...uh... Heat this up?" Jesse asked, unused to being communicated with in such a base way outside of his wolf form. The dragon just gave another huff and returned to the place where it had spent most of the time coiled, effortlessly weaving around itself once more.

Jesse took that lack of an answer as an affirmative, and moved the cauldron into the fire, setting it on the narrow wire rack above the coals, before returning to the furs. As he waited for the food to cook and give off the tell-tale 'done' smell, he began to doze, only awakening at the dragon's urging. By that time, there was a ladle in the pot and a wooden bowl set next to him, raising more questions than it answered, but ones Jesse had no plans to ask. Eat came the urge, whispered into his brain behind the dragon's rumble. Like all of the hospitality, Jesse wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. if the dragon really was just fattening him up to kill him, he had to admit there were worse ways to go.

The liquid had turned into a stew of some sort while he slept, with chunks of meat and some vegetables that were easily ladled into his bowl. He sipped at it as soon as it was cool enough to do so, grabbing bits of meat - deer - or vegetable - carrots and potatoes - with his fingers as soon as he was able and wolfing them down. He wasn't going to push his luck with a second bowl, even though he probably could have put away seconds, or even thirds, body craving the nutrition that the food provided.

Soon enough he was slipping into sleep once more, lulled by the warmth only a full stomach could give, and the thought that dragons weren't as scary as bedtime stories had made them sound.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission to the McHanzo 2017 Monster Mash. I may add a sequel of sorts if this gets enough interest. Or maybe even turn it into a whole series. After all there are plenty of directions to send it in.


End file.
